


Jeff the killer x Stripper!Reader (lemo)

by Ookaminii



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Jeff the Killer - Freeform, Lemon, Reader Insert, Reader-Insert, Smut, creepypasta lemon, jeff the killer x reader, x Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 09:46:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3763510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ookaminii/pseuds/Ookaminii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff the killer x reader, where the reader is a stripper with some dark secrets</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jeff the killer x Stripper!Reader (lemo)

**Author's Note:**

> This is currently incomplete, as it will have another chapter or more in the future

Jeff the Killer x Reader (Stripper) Lemon

I don't even know where THIS came from. I was listening to music on the bus, completely relaxed for once, and then I start getting scenes from this lemon in my head. My OCD acted up and I couldn't help but write it...  
Jeff is about 23 in this story- and you are 21. (Y/N)= Your Name. (L/N)= Last Name.  
Note: I've posted this on FanFiction, and on my Tumblr. I am youngguardian from DA, springfallendeer on tumblr, and Ookaminii on FanFiction.

The musky scent of smoke and sweat. The calming effect created by the dim, blue lights that flashed throughout the darkness of the room. A dozen or so men sat patiently in their chairs, staring up at a variety of women doing erotic dances- most of which danced around a pole. There was however, one man who didn't seem interested in sitting down. Instead, he stood behind a chair and watched as whatever woman happened to be in front of him danced seductively on her pole. When he tired of watching one woman he calmly made his way over to the next- as if he was searching for one woman in particular. However, the reality of it was that he was looking for someone- anyone- that stood out. All of the strippers he encountered were plain- the typical stripper just looking to get twenty dollars shoved in their g-string. They all looked average to him- no scars, tons of makeup, expressions that look blank but are simply used to mask their embarrassment. To him, all of these women are the same- nothing unique about them at all. That is, until he made it to the last one. The last woman he stumbled across and watched, was a (H/C) in her early twenties. She had (E/C) eyes, and pale skin- her skin really caught his attention. Why? Because her back is littered with scars. She looked as if she'd been beaten with a whip- but not recently. Calmly, he tightened his hood around his face and he took a seat in front of the lone dancer. There were no other men sitting in front of her watching her erotic dance- probably because of her scarred back- so he had her to himself. He sat virtually motionless as he watched her performance, taking in every detail of how she moved and how she behaved.

Her thin, nimble body clang to her pole as if it was part of her body- she performed so well on it that he was surprised it wasn't attached to her skin. She used the pole as if it were an extension of herself- and the way her legs hooked around it when she spun occasionally gave the impression that it may have been a part of her very being. Her long, (H/C) hair whipped around gracefully whenever she changed the direction of her movement. Occasionally, her vibrant, (E/C) eyes locked with his, and she flashed him a sly smile in response to seeing him watch her so intently. As she danced, sweat began to form on her pale skin- but the slight layer of moisture neither bothered her nor hindered her performance. Rather, that thin layer of sweat made it easier for her to spin around on her pole- and it reflected the dim lighting of the room, creating the illusion that she was glowing. A slight smile tugged at the hooded mans cloth covered lips, and he slipped his hands into the conjoined pockets of his hoody as he lent back to get more comfortable. This was the woman he'd been looking for. The one who was unlike all others- the unique one. She bore her damaged body with pride, and held no embarrassment regarding her line of work. She enjoyed her job well enough to make it her passion, and she wasn't afraid to let her customers know that she liked her line of work. Fearless. Bold. Devious. She was the ideal target- she was someone who would fight for her right, no matter how vain her attempts were.

As soon as her dance was over, she approached the ledge of her pedestal and fell to her hands and knees to flash him a seductive smile, and he rose to move closer to her. He came to stand directly in front of her- the pedestal was high enough that she was eye level with him while on her hands and knees upon it. Slowly, he withdrew one of his pale, bleach-white hands and held a fifty dollar bill in front of her face. He watched intently as something dangerous flashed behind her (E/C) eyes, and he quickly noted that the look he had spotted was one of warning. From that alone, he learned something rather interesting about his target. While she enjoyed the dancing required for her job, she seemed to hold a strong distaste for receiving tips from her customers. This knowledge only manages to amuse him, and once he tires of teasing her with her reward for entertaining him, he reached out to bury the bill in the space between her cleavage. He pushed the money between her breasts and sank his somewhat chilled fingers between the soft mounds of skin, and he took his sweet time retracting his hand. Not because he wanted to touch her sexually, but because he could feel her heart pounding in her chest. From the speed and the strength of the beat, it was obvious that she was excited about something. Not sexually excited- there wasn't a hint of arousal in her expression or her body language. No, the excitement came as a result of her earlier actions on the pole, and her current actions with him.

She was like a cornered animal waiting for her chance to strike- and he could sense that if he crossed her here, in her territory, she would lash out at him. So, he made sure to be careful and purposely slow with every movement he made. He let his hand linger between her breasts just long enough for them to warm him, then he slowly withdrew it to keep from startling her. This was her environment after all- her turf. He wouldn't challenge her here- not while so many people were near enough to witness whatever scene would ensue should he push her to attack. He knew better than to cause a scene- he was a predator after all, and she was his intended prey. When he withdrew his hand, he allowed his fingers to brush across the skin of her partially exposed breasts to test their softness, and she made no move to stop him when he did. Then, he calmly walked to the farthest part of the building to try and hide in the shadows. However, thanks to his bleach white hoody and unblinking eyes- which he was surprised she didn't notice- he could still be seen even as he tried to hide from her view...

*A few hours later*

He had remained in the strip club and kept an eye on his target until it became apparent that it was closing time- then he left the building and hid in an alley across the street to watch for her. His intention was to follow her home, mess with her a bit- maybe fight, seeing as she seemed to hold a fierce nature. Then he'd killer- and whether or not he would take his time would depend on how well she'd entertained him during their pre-killing interaction. He wasn't forced to wait to long for her to calmly walk out of the strip club and start towards her home, and he made sure to follow her at a distance just to ensure that she didn't spot him prematurely. The stalking period didn't last long- fifteen minutes at the most. She led him to a tall apartment complex- then she hesitated as if she didn't quiet want to return home. He took that as his opportunity to ensure that he didn't loose sight of her- he swiftly made his way to her and pressed his knife against the small of her back as he wrapped an arm around her waist. He was a little surprised that she didn't try to struggle, and even more surprised when she calmly reached an arm up to wrap it around his shoulder. The pose made it look as if he was carrying her home drunk, and for a split second he was confused by her actions.

"I feel the knife... Take me inside, I'll give you whatever you want..." She said calmly, as she tightened her hold on him to pretend that he was holding her up. He caught the message easy enough, and carried her inside in a way that made it appear that he was helping her home in a drunken state. As soon as they made it inside, one of the people who ran the complex noticed the "Situation", and they immediately set out to see if he and the (H/C) woman needed assistance.  
"M-miss (L/N)... Do you need help getting to your room?..." The person, and older looking man, asked hesitantly as he slowly made his way over to the pair. In response, the woman waves her free hand in the air to refuse the offer.

 

"Nah... I-I'm fi—ne~... This, f-fine young gentleman he—re is takin me to m-my ro—om~" The woman, whose last name seemed to be (L/N), said in a surprisingly spot on imitation of a drunken tone- apparently this wasn't the first time she'd pretended to be wasted. Her little act fooled the elder man easily, and he more or less ushered them in the proper direction to make sure they made it to her room. The pair kept up their little charade until they came across the room that she lived in- then she took her arm off of his shoulders to fish a key out of her pocket. He watched intently as she unlocked her door- he wanted to see if she fumbled with the key or lock in any way, but she didn't. She unlocked and opened the door as calmly and as easily as she normally would, then she put her key back in her pocket and more or less dragged him inside. Technically she just walked into her room and he refused to let go of her, but either way, the two of them were in the room and none seemed to sense the danger she was in. Once inside the room, he let her go then he closed and locked the door, and he studied her once more. As soon as he let her go, she went about her business as if he wasn't even there. She pulled off her thin red sweatshirt and tossed it on her couch, then she kicked off her semi-heels and put them in the corner. She pulled a rubber band out of her long, (H/C) hair, and let it flow freely over her shoulders. She basically did everything he believed she usually did when coming home- and he didn't know whether to find her lack of attention towards him interesting or irritating. Once she was done getting comfortable, she walked over to her couch and took a seat, then she stared up at him calmly.  
"So, Jeff the Killer eh? I must say, your the best cosplayer I've met so far..." She said calmly as she reached for a small table beside the couch to retrieve a packet of cigarettes and a pack of matches. She pulled a smoke out and put it between her lips, then she held the pack out as if to offer him a cigarette- he shook his head in refusal and opted to take a seat next to her. Her being so calm caught his interest, so he had no reason to be violent just yet- he'd let her entertain him for a while before slitting her throat. He watched intently as she flicked the lighter on and held the flame under her smoke- she didn't take a puff until after she'd put the flame out and returned the lighter to its proper place. When she puffed, it was just a short breath to get the taste of smoke in her mouth- he could tell just from watching that she didn't actually inhale the toxic smoke. She repeated the process a few times before putting her smoke in a nearby ashtray and turning to look at him.  
"So, whatcha here for? Trying to mimic your favorite Creepypasta? Here to cut a smile in my face and slit my throat? Or, maybe you just mistook me for a hooker and decided to try something kinky." She said blandly, before she lent back on her couch and ran her fingers through her long, somewhat tangled (H/C) hair as if she were tired. Oh good, she was sleepy- he had all the more reason to put her to sleep. In response, the took his knife and held it up to her throat, and he lightly pressed the tip of it against her skin. She neither wince nor offered sound of pain when the edge to the blade broke her skin, and she seemed completely unfazed by the small amount of blood that seeped out of her wound. Her response- or lack or response- only served to entice more of his interest. He'd picked a real unique victim this time around, and now he was having second thoughts about killing her. Why? Because it was nice being in the presence of someone who wasn't scared shitless of him- and the fact that she seemed so at ease with him, so relaxed when he was so near, only made him relax around her in turn. Out of the blue he heard her laugh, and he cocked his head to the side curiously in response.  
"So you're here to kill me~ How sweet, I suppose I should feel flattered~..." She said sarcastically, before she reached towards his face with both her hands- which caught him off guard and made him flinch. He moved his blade from her throat when he cringed.  
"Alright, cut the crap and let me see your piss poor makeup. If your gonna pose as Jeff the Killer, the last thing your supposed to do is cover up his mutilated face." She grumbled as she reached for the bandanna he used to hide his face. He made no move to stop her nor did he give word of protest when she yanked the cloth down to reveal the scars on his bleach-white cheeks- and he bit back a smirk when he spotted her surprised expression. Instead, he kept his face blank and stared at her, and he watched as she stared at him. She never tore her gaze away from his face- once in a while she tilted her head to the side as if curious. She didn't pull her hands back either. Instead, she move them higher to touch his cheeks- or his entire face to be more precise. She gently ran her fingers over his scars, touched his lips with her thumbs, felt the burnt remnants of his eyelids carefully. He was somewhat taken aback by how calm she managed to remain when she studied him- even hardcore criminals were appalled by his face, and yet she touched him with the ease of a bee collecting honey from a flower. She was very slow, and her touch was just firm enough for her to properly feel him.  
"This... Isn't makeup..." She said calmly as she continued to examine his face- her fingers were under his eyes, feeling what remained of his charred eyelids. Calmly, he lifted his free hand and pulled on of her arms away- she withdrew her other on her own accord.

 

"No, it isn't." He said in an equally calm tone as he put her hand on her leg. When he let her arm go and withdrew his hand, he was pleased to see that she kept it in place- seems she realized he didn't want to be touched at the moment.

 

"You're not cosplaying are you?" She asked quietly, her eyes locked with his. Her expression was surprisingly blank considering she was more than aware of the fact that she had a serial killer sitting right next to her, and that he intended on making her his next victim. The more he allowed himself to socialize with her, the less he wanted to see her blood all over the wall- and the more he wanted to do something a little more, animalistic.

 

"No I'm not." He said calmly, before he lifted his knife again to press the side of it against her cheek- to his surprise, she lent into the cold contact of the blade. She was a strange one indeed.

 

"So then, you're Jeff the Killer?" She asked calmly as she closed her eyes to lean more against the surface of the knife. Her actions confused him a bit. Was she hot? Did she actually want to die? He didn't know- but he knew that normal people weren't so as ease with blades pressed to their faces.

 

"Yes." Was his- was Jeff's- simple reply. In response, she lifted her hand to grasp his hand that held the knife, and he allowed her to move his arm out of curiosity for what she intended on doing. He watched as she moved the blade towards her mouth, and he saw her kiss it. Then, she opened her eyes and looked at him.

 

"I'm (Y/N)..." She- (Y/N)- said calmly.

 

"Are you going to kill me Jeff?" She asked quietly as she let go of his hand so that he could do what he pleased with his knife. He decided to lightly drag it down her skin- from her cheek, all the way down to her chest. Her collar bone to be precise. She didn't even flinch when he pressed the tip of the blade into her skin to draw a few small drops of blood.

 

"Hmm... I've been thinking about it... But you- the way you behave, how calm you are around me... Maybe I wont kill you..." Jeff said smoothly as he trailed the knife a little lower and cut into the collar of her shirt- she jumped slightly at the sound of tearing cloth, but otherwise remained still as he cut her shirt open. As soon as her shirt was open, (Y/N) shrugged it off her shoulders and let it rest behind her on the couch, then she lent casually against it and sighed.

 

"You playing with me, or hoping for an easy lay?" (Y/N) asked calmly, only to hear the sound of her brassiere being cut in response. She made no move to cover her chest nor did she seem to mind him staring at her. Instead, she raised an eyebrow at him and sighed.

 

"I believe your mistaking me for a whore. I don't sleep with my customers Jeff." She said blandly, only to watch as he moved his knife down to slice the button out of her pants so that he could pull them off with ease later on. That was it- he'd decided. He wouldn't kill her- he wouldn't cut her throat out and watch her blood pool around her lifeless corpse. Instead, he'd use her to cure the animalistic urge that had crept into him the moment his eyes landed on her. Pure, raw, lust. That was the emotion- the sensation- that seemed to be clouding his judgment and making him want to let her live. He thought that, maybe if he used her as a means of expelling that urge- of drowning it out through actions he rarely indulged in, then maybe he could clear his head. If he still didn't want to kill her once his mind was clear of fog, then he would let her go and seek out some other victim. If not, then she'd be the next name added to his lengthy list of victims. Without a word, he put down his knife trusting that she wouldn't make a go for it- and she didn't, she just sat on the couch and stared at him. She watched him intently as he pulled off his faded white hoody, which was followed by the tight black tee-shirt he wore underneath it. He unbuttoned his black jeans but left them alone past that- he was going to stay on equal grounds with her for this. He would give this woman some respect for how well she'd entertained him thus far in their socializing. Then, he locked eyes with her, picked up his knife, and got off the couch.

 

"Lie on your stomach." Jeff demanded bluntly, and he watched as she immediately but calmly responded to his order. She slid down the length of the couch and rolled onto her abdomen, and she crossed her arms under face to rest her head on them. Her face was facing sideways, so that she was staring directly at him. Calmly, he climbed on top of her and lied his body completely on her frame. His crotch pressed against her backside and he buried his face in her (H/C) hair. He breathed in her scent to see what she smelt like, and he found a variety of smells on her. Smoke from her cigarettes. The musky stench of sweat- she hadn't taken a shower after performing at the strip club, so that wasn't an unexpected smell. He caught a faint whiff of her shampoo- it was a fruity, flowery scent most women seemed to enjoy, but he didn't quite know what the soap smelt like exactly. Not that it really mattered- every smell on her was her scent, and he liked it. Boldly, he rolled his hips to grind his crotch against her rear, and to his delight his actions provoked a barely audible gasp from her. He kept at that for a few minutes- to get his body ready for the upcoming task and to get her acquainted with what he would soon be driving in and out of her. He was pleasantly surprised to feel her shudder beneath him as he moved, and for one reason or another he relished in the feel of her naked, scarred back on the bleach-white skin of his bare chest. There was no falsehood in their actions- no modesty, no fear, and no holding back. Every reaction was honest, and they were more than willing to tangle themselves in each-others bodies- raw passion has that effect on people of similar mindsets.

That was what seemed to be drawing them together after all- they both had something wrong with them mentally, her lack of worry about the possibility of being killed proved that. Eventually he stilled his hips so that he could advert his focus elsewhere- he slid partway down her body to plant a few rough bites on the back of her neck. She moaned lightly as he sank his teeth into the tender skin in the crook of her neck, and he licked away what little blood seeped out of the fresh wound so that he could taste her. The he moved further down her frame to ravish her back, which he quickly learned was extremely sensitive due to the dozens of scars that lay scattered across it. She responded loudly whenever he suck on or grazed his teeth along a scar- her loud moans and gasps rang in his ears like the aftermath of an explosion. He took his sweet time toying with her back- he was in no rush to bury himself inside her. Not while he could take his time rendering the once calm, composed, and prideful woman to nothing more than a sweating, moaning, pile of lust. He was the one sending her off her hinges- the one touching her in a way that she probably wouldn't allow other men to. Yes, he was certain that she didn't take part in such intimate actions often. Her behavior in the club- the pride that seeped out of her while she danced. The menacing aura that enveloped her when he gave her her tip- the silent threat directed at him when he slipped his hands between her breasts to place the money in her poor excuse for a brassiere. The look she had given him was one an animal gives its handler as word of warning. She had told him with her eyes that if he crossed a line she didn't want crossed, she would retaliate and lash out to put him back where he belonged.

So the fact that he was there, touching her in such an intimate way, and that she wasn't trying to reprimand him, obviously meant that she'd accepted him as her equal. By the time he pulled his mouth away from her back, she was panting, and trembling slightly from the onslaught of pleasure that had wracked her body. Had he been able to see her face in their current position, he imagined that her cheeks would have been flushed and her eyes would have been watering. The moment that thought crossed his mind, the unbearable urge to face her overtook him, and without the slightest thought on the matter he flipped her over and smashed their lips together. She immediately responded by opening her mouth and wrapping her arms around his back to cling to him. He shoved his tongue into her open mouth tasted every square inch of her oral cavity, and she sucked on his tongue as she moaned into his mouth. The kiss was long, rough, and extremely passionate. As they kissed, their hands roamed each-others bare upper half's. He dropped his knife and savagely fondled her breasts, and she dug her nails into his shoulders as she clawed at his back, leaving bloodied lines in their wake. Her rough, desperate responses to his treatment only fueled the fire that had ignited inside of him, and he ground against her roughly to provoke more heated moans from her. They smeared each-others mouths with saliva as they tongued one another, and when they finally parted to catch their much needed breath a heavy string of saliva connected their mouths. While they panted, he stared down as her trembling frame to take in her facial expression. Her vibrant, (E/C) eyes were glazed heavily with lust. Her once pale cheeks were tinted vibrant pink from the heavy blush that had graced her features.

Her lips, which had not been coated with makeup, were red and swelling because of the ferocity of their kiss. Eventually the strand of saliva that connected their mouths broke, and as soon as he'd regained enough breath he got to work on enticing more pleasured cries from her. He went straight for her neck, and he littered the pale skin there with dark love marks- he sucked and bit her throat savagely to mark her as his property. After this night, if he didn't kill her, no one would be allowed to touch her again. If anyone did, he'd cut their junk off and make them eat it. When he finally pulled back to examine his work on her neck, he wasn't surprised to find that her entire throat had basically been turned into one, giant bruise. Sure, there were a few small spots of untouched skin, but he decided to leave them alone- they contrasted well with her bruises. His self inflicted smile widened further as he examined his handiwork, and a slight groan escaped him when his loosened pants finally hit that point of being unbearably tight around his bulging crotch- but he didn't cave in and claim her right there. No, he still wanted to torment her with his assault of rough, passionate foreplay. Besides, he was having fun. Repressing a dark laugh, he tightened his grasp on her breasts and squeezed them roughly. The cry that escaped her lips was one of pain and pleasure- a pair of conflicting emotions that were slowly but surely driving her mad with their battle over her senses. He was absolutely merciless. His aggressive touches provoked a number of loud, pleasured screams from her. He fondled her soft, warm mounds roughly and shifted his fingers to squeeze her nipples from time to time, and every now and again he tugged on them.

When he finally decided to leave her breasts alone he wasn't surprised to see hand shaped bruises forming on them, and as a fleeting act of kindness he lent down to kiss irritated skin he had been squeezing so roughly. As he did this, he found himself growling like a rabid dog when she bucked her hips to grind against his painfully tight crotch- and that was when he decided that the time for foreplay was over. He slid further down her body to sit between her legs, and he retrieved his discarded knife for a moment to literally cut her pants and underwear off of her body- what he didn't manage to slice was swiftly ripped off of her and tossed in a random direction. With that she was left lying beneath him, completely bare and more than willing to just take him in right then and there. The sight alone was to make him decide that a little more foreplay couldn't hurt. After all, the sight of her aroused sex glistening between her spread legs was a sight he wouldn't mind etching into his memory. Casually, he dropped his knife on the floor and he moved both of his hands between her legs to touch her aroused lower half. He used his thumbs and index fingers to spread her lower lips, and he chuckled quietly to himself when she moaned and jerked her hips to try and force more contact from him. He gave into her physically shown request- somewhat at least. He shifted one of this thumbs, and he slipped it inside of her ever so slowly- he pushed it in as far as it could go. His actions provoked another abrupt buck from her hips, and to still her he moved his other hands to press down on her lower abdomen so that he could hold her down.

She arched somewhat in frustration when he held her in place, and a breathy gasp escaped her when he wriggled his thumb around inside her sensitive sex, earning another laugh from him. For someone who'd portrayed such a dangerous energy during their first meeting, she sure was sensitive to his touch. Be it her normal reaction to sexual stimulation or not, he still felt proud of himself for provoking such strong responses from her. After a minute or so of slowly driving her mad with his thumb, he withdrew it and moved his hand to his face- a string of her essence stuck to his thumb as he pulled it away, but it snapped about halfway. He locked eyes with hers as he stuck out his tongue and licked his wet, sticky thumb clean or her feminine fluid- he wasn't surprised to hear her groan and feel her try to jerk her hips again. When his thumb was clean, he moved his hand down to his pants, and he reached into his boxers to free his stiff length from its fabric prison. A light sigh of relief escape him when his erect piece was freed from the fabric that had confined it, then he moved his other hand off of her abdomen so that he could pull his pants down- the heat beginning to form between them was making him very uncomfortable in his clothes. He pushed his pants down to his knees, and she helped him finish removing them by pushing them off with her feet. With a little squirming on his part when they reached his ankles, his pants were left dangling behind him on the couch, and he knelt between her spread legs in all his male glory. The excited moan that left her parted lips only added more to his pride when he heard it- she liked what she saw, and that was enough to make any mans pride swell.

Oh, and "Swell" he did. The throbbing between his loins was driving him insane- well, more insane than usual- but he wasn't quite ready to just claim her as his, not just yet. Yes, he wanted nothing more than bury his swelled length inside her tight heat, but he still had some foreplay in mind. He wanted a better taste of her lower mouth- what he'd stolen from her with his thumb hadn't been enough to satisfy his hunger. So he moved to his stomach between her legs and gave a quick lick to the sensitive area just outside her dripping folds- he tasted her raw skin first, rather than the essence of her arousal. His teasing action provoked a frustrated moan and a slight bucking of her hips, which he held down so that he could continue toying with her. He took his sweet time licking the skin around the point of interest, earning a series of loud moans and desperate gasps for more contact. He felt her tense beneath his hands as she tried to jerk her hips, and to tease her more he blew warm air on the raised bud that was her clitoris.

"J-Jeff!... Sto—ah—p, t-teasing!" (Y/N) moaned frustratingly as he continued to blow on her sensitive sex, earning a playful flick of his tongue to her clitoris. She arched her back and gasp at the sudden ripple of pleasure that spread through her core, but through that she was still able to hear him chuckle at her dramatic response to his actions.

 

"No..." Jeff laughed seductively as he trailed his tongue dangerously close to her sensitive sex, earning a visible tremble from the overly aroused woman. As he continue to lap at her, he began to massage her hips with his thumbs- he relished in the sounds she made when he touched her.  
"Not unless you beg~" He cooed, before he indulged himself a bit by giving her dripping folds a quick lick- which eared a loud moan and a sharp intake of breath from her. Then he went right back to teasing the skin around her sopping sex with his warm tongue. Though considering the fact that her body felt hot against his tongue, he was more than certain that his tongue felt cold against her skin. Since he felt goosebumps forming underneath his fingers, he was pretty much positive that his tongue and breath were cold against her skin. He continued to tease her as he patiently waited for her lust driven pleas of desire to ring in his ears- he didn't have to wait long.

 

"J-Jeff, p-please!... S-stop t-teasing, and lick m-me!... J-just!... E-eat me o-out, a-already!..." (F/N) managed to gasp out between moans, her once strong voice now strained and trembling because of her strong sexual desires, and the strain or arousal. Those desperate noises were all he needed to give in to her request and devour her sexual essence. He plunged his tongue past her slick nether lips, and greedily lapped at her internal walls. In response, she threw her hands to the back of his head to push his mouth closer to her sex, pushing his tongue a little further inside of her as she tangled her fingers in his mangled hair. He groaned quietly against her as she tugged at his locked, sending sweet vibrations through her lower body, which gradually drover closer to the peak of her sexual pleasure. She came loud and hard against his tongue, and he greedily lapped at the fluids that washed over his tongue as she slowly fell from her high. Him tonguing her while she tried to recover from her orgasm did nothing to help her calm down, and so she could only lie there panting and moaning loudly as he ate her out. When he finally decided that he'd made enough of a meal out of her- which happened to be right before he sent her into another orgasm- he pulled back and shifted so that he was kneeling between her legs once again. Chuckling darkly, he stared down as her as he began to roll his hips so that he could grind his stiff member against her slick sex. They both threw their heads back to let out raspy moans at the blissful contact. She arched her back and bucked against him as she mewled, physically begging him to stop toying with her body and just sink himself inside her.

For a moment it crossed his mind that he could make her beg a bit before he gave in and drove her head into the armrests with the force of his movements- but that thought threw right out the window when his head slipped inside her warmth. That surge of pleasure was enough to make him think "Oh fuck it" and just shove himself inside- and he did so savagely. That first thrust was so powerful that it made her body slide up the couch to bump her head on the armrest- and despite the pain it must have caused her she cried out in pleasure as she wrapped her legs around him. When he first sank himself inside of her, he found himself falling momentarily paralyzed by pleasure that abruptly washed over him, and he moaned loudly. When he found it in him to move again, he tightened his hold on her hips to the point of bruising her, and he slowly pulled out until only the tip of him remained connected to her shuddering frame. Then, he slammed himself back into her to send another shock-wave of bliss jolting through their conjoined bodies. She arched her back as she moaned loudly, and she threw his arms to his shoulders in some pointless attempt at steadying herself. Her nails dug into his skin as he rocked his hips against hers- she clang to him as if he was her life, as if his every movement threatened to send her spirit skyrocketing to heaven. His thrusts were strong, and rough. Every time he withdrew from her tight heat, her body clang to his and she slid away from the armrest. Every time he slammed back into her, her body sucked him in gladly and she slid up the couch to bump her head on the arm of the furniture.

This was a enthusiastically repeated set of actions, and come the end of their little love-making session he wouldn't be surprised if he'd given her a concussion. Or, multiple concussions to be more exact. Still, he could tell by her pleasured moans, and the way that she was clinging to him for life that she loved every violent movement he made. Hell, he had to admit that he loved the way her fingers dug into his shoulders while he drove himself in and out of her. He enjoyed it so much that he moved to support himself on his elbows as he rode her, that way she could claw freely at his back without having to sit up- and boy, did she claw at him. By the time the night was over he'd probably have to bandage his back and shoulders, because he could feel blood running down his arms and sides. Yeah, he really knew how to pick his victims- his one wasn't even trying to fight back and she was managing to do more damage to him than all of his other victims combined. While she reduced his back to a crimson mess, he pulled her into a teeth shattering kiss- a very aggressive teeth shattering his. He roughly bit her lips to pry them apart so that he could shove his tongue into her mouth, and when she pushed her tongue into his mouth he bit it. The rich taste of blood filled their mouths as they kissed each-other savagely- it smeared on their lips and the corners of their mouths. They did not break the kiss until they felt their orgasms approaching, and so Jeff moved his head to bury his face in the crook of (Y/N)'s neck so that he could focus only on reaching his sweet release.

His thrusts never lessened in force, but they grew less timed and more spastic- his movements had gone from controlled to desperate because of how close he'd come to his climax. She on the other hand had hit the point where she could only arch into him and tighten her legs around his waist to cling to the pleasure that he was sending through her frame. Sweat and blood beaded and rolled down their bare skin, soaking into the fabric of the couch, more than likely staining and ruining it. (Y/C) was the first to fall over the edge and find her sweet release. She screamed and tensed against him, her insides clamping down around him making his every movement more difficult, but all the more pleasurable as her head tightened. Her female essence rushed out from between her legs and washed over his swollen piece as she came, making it slightly easier for him to slip in and out of her tightening sex. Once she came, he was only able to give a few good thrusts before he tensed an released his seed inside of her- and he did so with a beastly moan. Even as he climaxed and his body went stiff, he somehow found a way to gently rock his hips against hers as her body milked him. She moaned quietly as he filled her body with her essence, and her limbs went lax as she came back down from her high. As soon as his he began to fall from his high, his body slackened and he collapsed on top of her. Her breasts were crushed under his chest, and his forehead rested at the edge of the armrest. Both of them panted loudly in an attempt at regaining their breath. Sweat continued to bead and roll down their skin to soak into the couch as their bodies cooled, and eventually they began to shiver slightly as a result of the cold air hitting their heated skin.

They lied like that for a while, simply letting the aftermath of their actions set in while they attempted to regain their strength. As they recovered, the bruises on (Y/N)'s lips, neck, breasts, hips, and even her thighs began to darken. The swelling in her lips began to die down- as did the swelling of the male organ still buried inside her abused sex. The claw marks on Jeff's shoulders and back quickly stopped bleeding, and the blood that had come out of the wounds slowly dried as the sweat on his body evaporated. When they'd finally regained enough energy to move, he weakly pushed himself off of her and moved so that he was kneeling between her legs. Then, he slowly pulled his limp piece out of her out of her abused sex, and he watched as his seed, mixed with her natural essence, seeped out from between her legs to pool on the seat of the couch. His gaze trailed from her dripping sex, to her bruised hips, her bruised breasts, marked neck, until his lane of vision settled on her face. She was staring up at him through half lidded, tired eyes. Her cheeks were still tinted pink from her blush, and her (H/C) hair clang to her skin- parts of it framed her head like a wild wave of some oddly colored ocean. Her kiss bruised lips were slightly parted, and the blood smeared around her mouth easily caught his attention. For reasons he did not know and could not understand, he lent over and gently licked the blood away from her damaged lips. Then, he pulled her into a soft, but passionate kiss. Their lips moved slowly and gently with each-other, as if they were dancing an intricate waltz, and occasionally one of them sent their tongue out to cut in. When the kiss ended, he slowly pulled back before turning to sit properly on the couch, and he retrieved his pants to put them on.

Once his lower half was covered, he picked up his knife and stared at it for a moment- even after venting his sexual urges on her body, he had yet to decide if he wanted to kill her or not. Even though he'd told himself he'd let her live if she satisfied him, he was still conflicted. With a sigh, he stood up and slipped his knife into his back pocket, then he turned his attention to the exhausted woman lying naked on her couch. For some reason, he felt that he couldn't just leave her there- not like that at least. So he gently took her in his arms and proceeded to hunt down her bedroom. Considering the size of her apartment, all he had to do was round a corner and then he was there. He quickly laid her down on top of the sheets and pulled them over to wrap her in them, then he reached into his back pocket to retrieve his knife once more. He stared down at her and was somewhat surprised to find that she was still awake, and that she was watching him.

 

"You gonna kill me now?" (Y/N) asked calmly, her voice tired much like she seemed to be. He responded by sitting next to her on the bed and setting the side of the blade against her cheek, and he wasn't surprised to see her close her eyes and try to press closer to the cold metal. He eyed her curiously for a moment.

 

"I... Haven't decided yet." Jeff said calmly, before he trailed the knife down her cheek, to press the cold metal against her bruised neck. She sighed contently at the feel of the blade against her sore throat- it must have felt as good as an ice-cube against a fresh burn to her.  
"Tell me, why are you so unafraid of me?" He asked quietly, his curiosity getting the better of him and driving him to ask his question before he had the chance to realize that it was on his mind. Ah well, he couldn't simply un-ask it, so he decided to let her answer if she would.

 

"Mm... Well, lets just say my mothers "Lovers" taught me not to fight back when they came after me... Eventually, I just lost the urge to put up a fight. They tried to kill me a few times, had their way with me... I wont lie though, I snapped and killed one of them while they slept. Then I ran away from home, found someone willing to give me work- which is at the strip joint... Been working there ever since..." (Y/N) said calmly and tiredly, pausing every now and again as sleep threatened to overtake her. With that explanation, every misconception and conflicting thought plaguing his mind fled him like a mouse fleeing from a cat. He dropped his knife and let if fall off of her bed only to clatter loudly on the floor. That was it- the reason he'd felt such an unusual attachment to her. She knew pains and had done things similar to him in so many ways. She was, in that sense, the female version of himself- and despite his twisted nature he still carried the undying urge to stay alive. Which was why he hadn't wanted to kill her- because killing her would be like killing himself. Without a word, he moved the blankets off of her and climbed over her frame to lie behind her, then he pulled the covers over their bodies and wrapped an arm around her waist.  
"Jeff?..." She said tiredly, though her confusion was evident in her voice. He responded by pulling her closer to him and deciding to let her in- to let her know him in ways no one else did.

 

"I've decided not to kill you. You interest me, so I'd like to keep you around for a while..." Jeff said calmly as he moved his head to rest it in the crook of her neck, and he took a deep breath through his nose to take in her scent once more. The smell of sweat and sex clang heavily to her, and he could no longer catch the flowery scent that he'd smelt the last time he inhaled her. Instead, he caught the smell of his natural musk. His permanent smile fell genuine when he found his scent in her hair- it was the reminder of their earlier actions, and the proof of him claiming her as his. Then, he heard her let out something that sounded like a depressed chuckle- or a sound along those lines.

 

"Ah, well... Don't get to attached..." (Y/N) said dryly as sleep drew every nearer to overtaking her. However, he refused to let her go to sleep after giving him such an odd response. He shook her lightly to prevent her from fainting on him.

 

"What do you mean by that?" Jeff asked calmly upon ceasing his shaking, and he heard her make that same strange noise again. Then, she turned her head enough to look him in the eye.

 

"Because I'm dying..." (Y/N) said calmly, as if she had accepted her unfortunate fate eons ago...


End file.
